


Till We Die

by cledritch



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Both are Bad At Confrontations, Both are Bad with Feelings, Everything Hurts, Gift Fic, Inspired by Music, Loosely based on Bonnie and Clyde by Dean, M/M, Mutual Pining, Or Is It?, Possible Character Death, Protectiveness, Rich Kid Winwin, Smut, Taeyong is Whipped, implied domestic abuse, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 06:59:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9310343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cledritch/pseuds/cledritch
Summary: Lee Taeyong and Dong Sicheng are just friends. Just friends.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinnacoffi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnacoffi/gifts).



> This was supposed to be done a week ago but i got lost in the plot and now i'm not sure if this even fits the song anymore. I'm sorry for this. my dear friend, i hope you enjoy this and that you would forgive me if i didn't deliver it right.

"Where did you get this?"

The words echo through the room, tone quiet enough that it seemed calm but the heaviness of them made him slump his body against the elder's with resignation. His hands find the other's amidst the blankets surrounding them, knuckles red from when he had punched the wall by accident. They would hurt tomorrow and he would need to smile through to hide it.

However, nothing ever escaped Taeyong's eyes, not when it came to Sicheng and he raised their intertwined hands to ghost his lips over the reddened skin, saying "What did you do this time?" His free hand went to press down on the bruise he found when Sicheng lifted his coat off, an ugly purple against his side that barely peeked out that it was unnoticeable if not for the wince that the boy made.

Sicheng moves closer, head on Taeyong's shoulder before he replies "Nothing. I tried to cook." Which in hindsight, was a bad idea altogether and Taeyong bumps his forehead with the side of Sicheng's head with a chuckle.

"Did you burn anything?"

A small nod and the fingers around his hand tighten. "It was an accident. The pasta didn't fit in the pot."

Taeyong pats his head, settling it to card through his hair after a while and looks at his face. "It's alright. It's not your fault you and the kitchen don't go hand in hand." Sicheng retaliates by moving away and hitting his shoulder, laughter hollow that it hurts to hear it.

He coughs, eyes blinking rapidly as he clutches his bruise that he didn't realize he was putting pressure on that Taeyong straightened the blankets to help him. There's a grateful smile that lights up Sicheng's face, a novelty that Taeyong can't look away from after being denied of the happiness that Sicheng used to carry like a shroud. Sicheng who looks out of place in Taeyong's run down apartment where the only thing that makes it seem decent is how he organized his things. The couch was from an old friend of his, with questionable rips he sewed and draped with the blankets that would be soft enough to not irritate his sensitive skin. It wasn't supposed to fit two people with how Sicheng's legs were tangling with his, knees knocking together if they as much moved too much and Taeyong would need to use his arm to stop Sicheng from falling off. They looked ridiculous if anyone saw them trying to find a comfortable position yet there are nothing but grins on their faces despite how they are talking about heavier things.

Because when they were together, everything felt better.

"Do you want ointment on that?" Taeyong mutters, nudging his thigh at Sicheng's side to which the latter shook his head.

"Not if it's that one that smells like rotten eggs." he grimaced, nose scrunching cutely in disgust at the item that may help heal the bruise but it's questionable scent made it obvious when applied. That's one thing that Sicheng didn't want: being discovered that he sneaked over at Taeyong's again would give him more bruises.

Knowing what he was thinking about, the elder sighs. "Well, you'll just have to try to suck it in like usual, huh?"

Their eyes meet, Sicheng looking into the worried stare that Taeyong always gave him when he knew what might happen if this continued and in turn, Taeyong let those curious eyes fool him into wanting to stay. It should feel invasive but with the time they've spent doing nothing but stare at each other to find peace in a chaotic world, there's nothing but vulnerability left between them. Vulnerable to emotions they knew would have come with a price.

"As long as you're with me, I can."

Sicheng's words will be the death of him and it's something he will be willing to die for to hold him close.

But there's a sound of a tinkling bell, like a hammer that breaks the atmosphere between them filled with longing, desperate pleas to _stay, stay, stay_ that they swallow down and Sicheng parts from Taeyong's arms to pick up his bag where he left his phone.

They don't look at each other after that and Taeyong can't muster a goodbye when he hears the door shut on Sicheng's way out, knowing full well he will come back soon.

 ---

She was pretty, whoever she was. Petite with curves that show in her clingy floral dress that fan into frills at the hem and hair pinned in some popular style that Taeyong doesn't care about, she was grinning wider than a clown as her fingers sling so tight around Sicheng's arm like she doesn't want to let go of him for the rest of her life. She doesn't even notice that her red painted nails are digging into Sicheng's arm hard enough to hurt.

Taeyong wants to go to them and pry her away because he can see how Sicheng is flinching at the pain but he holds himself back.

Sicheng is uncomfortable but he's not struggling and manages to lead her into the streets with a smile faker than the fur coat she's wearing but her giddy smile shows how distracted she was with his handsome features to notice.

"Hey, isn't that your friend?" Yuta asks when he came out of the book store, paper bag in hand and looking out of breath.

Taeyong raises a judgmental brow at his ruffled hair and swollen lips, sneering "Took you long to get the covers sorted, huh?"

"Hmm. I had to look between the sheets too," Yuta said without any shame, wriggling his eyebrows at him and Taeyong shoved him "But that was Sicheng, right?"

"How did you manage to see when Hansol's up on your face?"

"Because his mouth got busy elsewhere." Yuta never stops to think about what he says and it makes Taeyong look at him in disgust. He was very much aware that he was proud of his boyfriend who worked two jobs and went to college in another school, always visiting him when he had the free time and making Taeyong drive him a city away because he wanted to save gas. 

"Keep your activities out my head because you're disgusting." he grumbled as they walked to his car, looking over discreetly over his shoulder for any sign of Sicheng.

"Keep your saltiness because you're lovesick but you don't want to push anything." Yuta retorted and he went inside the passenger side, squinting at Taeyong in accusation before they both turned quiet just as Taeyong started the car.

Through the day, he thought about the boy who wore washed out jeans and old sweaters that have lost their color bundled on his couch hiding the bruises from the beatings and tried to see him in the sharp-dressed young man with his hair parted neatly to the side with the woman who looked like she could be wearing a pawnshop with her gaudy jewelry.

He couldn't find their resemblance. Because whoever she was, she had tried to make his Sicheng into someone he was not and it pisses him off.

 ---

"What is this?" Taeyong asks, eyes looking down at the contents of the bowl.

"It's deconstructed lasagna." Sicheng's back in his place like he never left in a sleeveless tank top and sweats with his hair wet after he came in the middle of a downpour. He was shivering, cheek swollen and crying that Taeyong paused for a few moments, anger thrumming in his chest that made him clench his fists to stop himself. Instead, he ushered him inside and let him wear his clothes before sitting on the couch to check for any wounds. When he found none, he left the room and locked himself in the bathroom to calm himself down.

When he came out to check why there was a smell of cooking, he found Sicheng with a bowl in his hands that he gave to Taeyong the moment he saw him. He was smiling and his cheek was still red that Taeyong looked down at the bowl.

"You touched my kitchen?" he joked, picking up the spoon and digging into the mush of what used to be the lasagna he had made earlier but now separated that it looks like a pasta salad with tomato paste and melted cheese.

Sicheng flushed and started to wave his hands around. "I didn't go beyond the stove and I only used the butter you left in the cupboard."

Taeyong stared at him in disbelief. "Why did you put butter in this?" he asked, taking a bite and finding nothing out of place other than the little hint of saltiness that overcame his tongue from the butter.

When there's no disgust present from the elder, Sicheng beamed. "I cooked it in the pan so I put some butter to stop it from sticking."

Taeyong deadpanned, chewing on the pasta. "I have a microwave," he swallowed and smacked his lips "Why would you a pan?"

At this, Sicheng hits his shoulder repeatedly with his face aflame and Taeyong only finished eating the deconstructed lasagna with a cheeky smile on his face. After hitting him several times that he follows the elder when he put down the bowl, he places his head on Taeyong's shoulder before wrapping his arms around his waist. The elder glances at him at the corner of his eyes, humming a tune before he throws his head back to bump him. "What's wrong now?"

The arms tightens around him as Sicheng buries his face closer to Taeyong's neck. "Nothing." he mumbles, breath fanning on Taeyong's skin that the elder rolls his shoulders to get him to let go.

"I saw you in the city today." the elder says offhandedly as he walks to the couch, sitting on the side while Sicheng trails after him without any noise.

"Business?" Sicheng asks and leans on the back of the couch with a nervous look on his face. He knows that Taeyong worked in the side of the city that he always saw as unsafe and whenever he hears that he'd work overtime, he can't help the worry that the elder might be in danger. He grips his chest, tank top bunching up that when Taeyong looks up, he can see the miles of skin from his arms to the part of his chest exposed to how he was pulling at the fabric.

He twists his body a little to reach to Sicheng's hand and stop his actions, pulling him down to his side but miscalculating and it ends with the boy having to maneuver over the back of the couch that his head headbutts Taeyong on the stomach, knocking air out of his lungs. Sicheng scrambles to get up and help him but then he slips down the blankets that were bundled on the couch. They ended up falling on the floor, Taeyong managing to use his hands to stop crashing onto Sicheng whose back hit the ground with a small thud and he hisses at the pain. Taeyong lifts his body up, knee hitting Sicheng's leg that he had to look down to see what happened.

"Why are you so light-" he trails off when he sees Sicheng looking up at him through his lashes, plump lips parted from the strain as he breathes in short stutters. There's an emotion in his eyes he can't decipher but the redness of his cheeks made him realize they were pressed too close to be considered friendly. Taeyong recalls the last time they were in this position and by the hands that came up to hold his shoulders to pull him down as soft pliant lips met his in a kiss, he knew where it would lead.

Soft skin like silk under his fingertips as he trails his hands under Sicheng's shirt just as the latter slots their lips together to kiss him deeper, mouth parting when Taeyong licks his lower lip and their tongues sliding against each other, he knew exactly where this would lead.

A different set of marks and bruises made from his teeth on Sicheng's skin and scratches from his nails raking down his back when he fills him  after they were naked in his room with only their warmth, their mouths finding each other in the dark and the way they fit together in their minds as Sicheng clung to Taeyong with all his life.

This isn't like the first time but it always feels like the last time.

Sicheng would cry himself to sleep because he can't tell Taeyong those simple three words that would burst in his chest and the elder would hold him close, covered in sweat but feeling cold and warm at the same time while he whispered to him that it's okay, they're okay and they can always pretend.

Taeyong knows Sicheng can feel the tears that wet his back from where he hid his face.

"Who was she?"

Sicheng tenses and he turns around, eyebrows furrowed as his hand came to rest on Taeyong's waist. "How do you know that?"

"Yuta went to visit Hansol." he says and it was enough for Sicheng to understand because he scoots closer to Taeyong.

His eyes droop, clearly sleepy and he doesn't feel Taeyong lift him a little so he would rest his head on his chest. The sudden calming rhythm of a heartbeat made Sicheng open one eye even when it was clear he was going to pass out any moment. "Business partner. Everyone wanted me to show her around."

"Girlfriend material?"

Sicheng shakes his head weakly that his hair tickles Taeyong's bare chest. "No one compares to you."

"Because I'm your best friend right?" Taeyong asks but he makes it sound like a hiss, words like venom in his mouth as he waits for what Sicheng's response is. There's none and he buries his nose onto Sicheng's hair.

He was already asleep.

(The next day they end up kissing more before Sicheng left, right by the doorframe where Taeyong tries to tiptoe to Sicheng's height to make it comfortable and when they part with their lips swollen at how Taeyong had nibbled on the boy's lower lip that Sicheng had to retaliate, they sent each other soft looks as Sicheng walks away. He only looks away when the younger rounded the corner to which he turns and sees Yuta's unimpressed face that didn't hide what he was thinking.

He didn't miss a beat as he says in a monotone voice. "Yong, you're making a bad mistake."

Taeyong wished he could it see through Yuta's eyes then because he absolutely cannot find anything wrong.

And even if he did, would it matter when he just wants to stay by Sicheng's side?)

 ---

Sicheng was born into a rich family.

Chinese heritage and grew up on said culture where they liked to uphold the tradition to keep their bloodline pure of any other nationality, Sicheng was home-schooled for most of his life before his parents thought it was a good idea to make him study in Korea. It was something they believed would enhance Sicheng's interpersonal skills and interact well with people like he would when he inherits the company his mother and father built.

But Sicheng was reserved, quiet and sometimes shy when he started to study in a middle school where everyone tended to know everyone because transfer students were very rare in those parts. He would eat by himself, study on his own even if he had a hard time understanding Korean that ended with him having barely passable scores on the first year and didn't speak to anyone unless he wanted to be ridiculed with his accent. He did, however, dance well that it's what often made him known around school with talent scouts managing to catch wind of him several times.

He was handsome, yes but the blank expression he often sported made him seem unapproachable.

It was during summer classes, extra credits for classes that the teachers who took pity on him gave so he can raise his grades more, was Sicheng assigned to have a tutor. His parents had been against the idea but they didn't need to know when he was in school and that was how he and Taeyong crossed paths.

Taeyong wasn't a good person back then. He used to bully his peers because he had the authority as a hall monitor to do what he wanted, often make them do humiliating things that involved bathrooms and even mooning their teachers. He was a troublemaker who threw eggs at the windows and punched guys when they messed with him. He wasn't expelled because he was very smart and he had been getting so many top marks that he would go on competitions only if they let him do what he wanted around campus. Needless to say, when Sicheng first saw Taeyong, they had rolled down the stairs because someone had thrown a ball at the student behind Sicheng but it ricochet at the wrong direction directly at his way.

To this day, Taeyong refused to say why he saved Sicheng then. He never spoke about how he felt different when Sicheng was put under his wing, never confessed that the day they met was when he was starting to question his choices after he went to visit his estranged grandmother who told him that she saw something that would change Taeyong for the better. It was the day after she sent him a cheeky smile with the omnious warning did Taeyong caught sight of Sicheng quietly reading a book walking through the halls and the ball heading his way.

It felt like a epiphany. And Taeyong never wanted to leave Sicheng since then.

 ---

"Are you Lee Taeyong?" her voice sounded airy, like a car horn being prolonged in the middle of bustling traffic and it clashed with her scornful smile as she looked down at him from where he sat in the cafe.

He felt confused, eyebrows furrowing before he leveled her gaze. "Who's asking?"

She giggled under her hand, atrocious claw-like nails painted the same shade of gaudy red and she rolled her eyes at his answer. "Oh, please. Cut the politeness. You know exactly who's asking." her half-smile was mocking, emphasized with her hand on her hip. She looked like she won something from him that Taeyong couldn't help the growing irritation in him.

He may know her by assumption to who she may be but she was insignificant to him either way with her privileged stance and overconfidence that he would care about knowing her. Still, he smiled half-heartedly in return and gestured with his hands. "Should I?"

"Sicheng would want you to know," she replied without missing a beat and smiled petulantly "After all, you'll be the best man to our wedding."

Taeyong is glad he wasn't holding his papers because he would have crumpled them under his fist. He kept his smile on his face even when he felt his stomach drop. The anger is flooding his mind at the times Sicheng got hurt, both from physical blows and verbal hits from his own family and now, this bitch who his parents had dealt business with is suddenly announcing this? How can she act like Sicheng even agreed to that when Taeyong knew that it's the last thing the younger would want?

He gritted out a "Congratulations but he didn't tell me that." He would hit something, anything to stop himself from flinging himself to hurting this girl for Sicheng's safety. The last time he meddled, he couldn't come close to Sicheng without someone threatening to kill him.

She gasped in mock-surprise before placing her hand on her chest. "Isn't that so sad? Perhaps you aren't invited," she sneered "Because who would invite the home wrecker, am I right?"

"You don't know what you're saying."

"I know enough that he keeps a picture of you in his wallet and really, you should think twice before you leave marks on him. You're both disgusting."

Taeyong wished she would just go because his self-control was about to snap. He couldn't look at her anymore, drowning in the thought that Sicheng might be being punished right now with beatings and warnings and he couldn't breathe with the echoing sound of Sicheng's screaming for them to stop.

"Hey, you with the witch nails." Yuta's voice didn't register into Taeyong's head and he failed to see the girl look at him in disdain before she turned to Yuta with a mocking quirk of her brow that he returned.

"Oh, is this one of your friends here to defend you? Do they know what type of sick person you-"

"The librarian just told me to ask you to get out because your noise is interrupting the students doing their work here," Yuta cut her off without any remorse, tilting his head to gesture where the door was. "Get out before I kick you out myself."

The girl glared at him, scoffing and crossing her arms to make herself seem more intimidating but failed and broke one of her nails instead, fake press on falling to the floor. "You little-Do you know who I am?"

"You're getting kicked out." Yuta said in a whiny voice to mock her before he dragged her by the arm despite her protests.

She ripped her arm out of Yuta's grip to point at Taeyong, eyes filled with fury and pride that mingled into a sick satisfaction as she hissed "It'll never work and you'll be the one crying when he gets fed up with you."

Taeyong can still hear her words when Yuta has thrown her out, the latter siding next to him to put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"Don't let that bitch bother you. Who was she anyway?" his question is lost in Taeyong's muddled mind and Yuta doesn't try to pry with how the former was keeping his head down to think.

 ---

Taeyong started to doubt that Sicheng even wanted something other than company with him.

It's torture to hold him in his arms when they're watching a movie after he barged in with a sad look on his face. How he would insist in wearing the clothes that he left in Taeyong's closet, old clothes from the elder that was a little tight sometimes but wouldn't matter because he would look like a tiny chick being forced into clothes that don't fit him despite the content look on his face. They throw popcorn at each other when they find something funny about the scene before there's traces of salt on the corner of Sicheng's lips that Taeyong wipes without much thought.

It's torture when he kisses him, slow and sweet where he pulls away several times just to press his lips back on those soft ones that part unconsciously but he doesn't stop his pecks. Sicheng would bite on his lower lip to get what he wants from him and the moment he has long fingers tugging at the short hairs of his neck, Taeyong wants to feel sick that he's just being used as a means to escape. A quick thing that is there for Sicheng to feel alive before he is sold off to chain himself to his family's choices.

But he still kisses him softly because he's a fool in love and this might be the last time.

Taeyong wants it to be the last time.

Liar, he can hear his conscience hiss at him when he held Sicheng's hand through the mall with the younger's smile bright even when he can tell that their grip is loose enough that Sicheng can pull away when he recognizes anyone that his parents knew.

 

\---

The engagement party was when things went to hell.

Because that was the last time that Taeyong let Sicheng play with his heart.

 ---

 

"Stop."

Sicheng paused, eyebrows furrowed and hands stilling from clumsily unbuttoning Taeyong's dress shirt within the darkness of his room.

He knew that being here was a mistake. He knew that accepting that invitation from that girl when she arrived at his doorstep with a condescending smirk  holding the scented envelope to his face.  She said that Sicheng was too busy with the arrangements to come to him so she, being the good fiancee she thought she was, did it in his stead. Wow, she risked her high heels touching this part of the neighborhood so she could rub it in his face that Sicheng is going with this.

"He would want you there," she sneered, sugar-coated smile dripping venom that he wanted her off his floor mat but she shoved the envelope to his hands "Have one last meeting before you'll never see him again."

He hated how he immediately dressed up in a suit that had been collecting dust under his bed, styling his hair that he would look presentable and making sure to put on some cologne for good measure.

If Taeyong was going to go, he was going down in style.

Because Sicheng smiled and smiled and smiled to everyone that greeted him for his engagement, looking anything but uncomfortable with years of his conduct training ingrained into him with his coiffed hair and long coat that showcased how tall he was, suit well fitted and shoes shining under the light. He was Dong Sicheng, son of the Dong family that would inherit his father's company and marry a woman with the same social standing as him. The girl is in a red dress, clinging to her like a glove and wearing natural makeup with her hand tight on the crook of Sicheng's arm like a snake coiled around their prey in a death grip. She saw Taeyong before Sicheng could, immediately unwrapping her hand to walk in front of him and give him a loose hug out of nowhere, lips on his ear as she whispered "So glad you could come" in the same voice she always used around him: sickening and fake that Taeyong rolled his eyes before he stepped back out of her embrace.

It was when Sicheng approached his-Taeyong had to swallow the bile in his throat at the word-fiancee did he see him, eyes widening and looking back and forth his best friend and his bride to-be with a bewildered look that was bordering on horror. He resorted to escorting her to the grand staircase when his father asked for her, Taeyong following because she was glaring at him to and the three of them went up while the party was in motion.

Mr. Dong's eyebrows turned when he spotted Taeyong, obviously not pleased with the other's presence but the girl hugged him, whispering something to him before waving them good bye with a sardonic smirk that didn't fit her face. Sicheng immediately turned to Taeyong, questions floating in his head that he can't say before he pursed his lips and led them both to an empty room where he proceeded to kiss him.

The relieved sigh he made when Taeyong touched him was enough to make him snap back to reality.

"Hyung?" Sicheng's voice is hesitant as he placed a palm on his cheek, actions that only made the need to vomit inside Taeyong worsen with the way he can just think it was okay to make continous passes on someone while their fiancee was in the vicinity. The idea that all he was to Sicheng was a quick fuck to forget his responsibilities and pretend he wasn't going to have his whole life dictated by his family.

"Why are you doing this?" he choked, chest tightening when the younger blinked innocently at the accusation before he bit his lip to continue.

"I missed you."

Bullshit. If he missed him, he would have ditched this party. Taeyong knew well enough that the pressure is overwhelming, the illusion of freedom already slipping past the boy's fingertips and he's too scared to leave the life he was forced into by fate to come running to the only place he could be himself. There's a fine line between staying for the night and staying for life that Taeyong was too blinded by holding Sicheng in his arms to see, the distraction of warm skin and beautiful smiles that came down to moments that will haunt me when he wakes up and Sicheng's no longer the boy he was in love with.

Taeyong realized a bedroom wasn't the place for him to have this conversation.

He held Sicheng's hand, the younger mistaking it for him to continue but halfway from dipping his head to capture Taeyong's lips, the elder stopped him with a tut. "Drive with me."

A furrow of his eyebrows and Sicheng repeated them with question, Taeyong tugging him through the halls and climbing down the balcony to which he had to help Sicheng with before they found himself in the parking lot with an assortment of cars that his family owned, spying the familiar silver Honda that Taeyong would find the boy being driven in.

Thirty minutes later, Sicheng is laughing with the wind ruffling his hair while Taeyong drove up the road to where they used to spend their time stargazing a few summers back. He managed to smile at the questions Sicheng asked about what's going on and they could waste some time before his father looked for him unaware of how Taeyong was gripping the steering wheel tighter with every word.

He parked by the side of the fence that signaled the drop from the hill and Sicheng opened the car door to run to the grass, arms wide in glee like the kid he was that Taeyong went out with his heart fluttering at how this felt like old times where they just sat and talked about themselves and their ambitions.  But Sicheng is leaning on the hood of the car, suit wrinkled from before and his carefree face as he stared up the stars that are usually hidden by the pollution of the city is just a reminder that Taeyong needed to finish things before he fell deeper into the hole he dug himself.

Taeyong leaned next to him, arms touching that he is reminded of the nights from when they were watching movies on his shitty couch and laughing like they were stuck inside the fantasy of his apartment, lost in each other as they forget, forget, forget.

He sighed, starting to speak as Sicheng turned to look at him. "Sicheng, what are we?"

"Does it matter?" was his quick response, something that Taeyong recognized as a sign of nervousness and sighed once more that Sicheng continued "You can't be compared to anyone."

"Stop." This is the second time he has told him that but it's because Taeyong is done with the lies that Sicheng's been feeding him without realizing. He looked at him, eyes baring what he felt: helplessly in love, confused and spent from this carousel that he's been doing with him for the past months ever since he let those lips on his that drunken night of comfort. No one should use their friend to run away from their problems, friends don't play with your feelings knowing full well that they will hurt you in the end. He's been hoping for things to change but Sicheng can't change right now, not when he's more mindful of what his family wants for him than standing on his own two feet.

Sicheng stared at him, half-lidded eyes devoid of the sparkle that they usually held. His Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed his spit because he let his mouth gape trying to understand what Taeyong just said.  He winced when Taeyong didn't waver his gaze and perhaps he too has realized that there was no escaping this anymore. Sicheng may seem clueless with how he can blink and there's a strange protective feeling coming over anyone who sees but he's the type to play his cards right that words become a secondary ammunition to make everyone bend to his liking. He's a good actor and Taeyong should have accepted this long ago right at the very start of Sicheng confinding about his family to him.

"Stop playing with me. Go and make your picket fence because I won't let you fuck around with me anymore."

"I'm not. You're important to me." Sicheng whispered and he made a move to touch Taeyong's cheek but the latter moved back with a scowl. He flinched at the sudden rejection, lips quivering as Taeyong took a deep breath before snapped at him.

"I'm the only thing that your family can't control. I've always done everything for you without asking for anything in return and you take advantage of that. You sleep with me because you like being away from reality and you don't think about what I feel when you just leave me. Fuck you and your family, fuck you for leading me on and fuck you for not standing up for yourself!" his voice echoed into the darkness, breath harsh when he hunched over at the impending tears that are starting to come but he steeled his resolve, angrily wiping away when he felt the wetness roll down his cheeks that he could feel the sting.

He's not necessarily emotional most of the time but he's cared enough about someone who won't meet him halfway. It's like realizing that Sicheng wouldn't give a rat's ass about him if it meant making his family and their pathetic ideals proud, that despite what it may suggest that Sicheng would always seem to come back to Taeyong it would never matter and the striking, mind-numbing feeling that comes when he knew this was going to end like this.

Sicheng is still quiet, eyes filled with guilt that he kept his hands to his sides. Taeyong doesn't think he can stop anymore and yelled "I hope you're happy! Fucking happy that you've tagged along with a sad fuck like me for so long and not even trying to be subtle enough that the world won't realize! 'Oh, Lee Taeyong wouldn't find out! He's too fucking taken with me to and I can use that!' Was that it? Did you have fun? Had a good fuck while you were at it?"

"Stop."

"No, Sicheng. This is where we stop."

"Don't do this to me."

Taeyong laughed bitterly. He doesn't say anything else, walking back to the car with anger thrumming in his veins that he almost turned hit his head on the dashboard with how his eyes stung from the tears. He sniffled, hiding it behind his sleeve so as to wipe them and doesn't listen to the sound of Sicheng getting in on the driver's seat and closing the door with a loud slam. He doesn't see the storm brewing inside Sicheng's eyes that had replaced the confusion he had initially felt, gaze resting at Taeyong before he sat up and smacked the elder's hands away as he pulled at his collar to meet him for a bruising kiss.

Taeyong slapped him, the sudden kiss shocking him so much he stared dumbly at his hand that was suspended in mid-air while Sicheng looked at him with pursed lips to hide how much his cheek hurt from the sting and crept to Taeyong's lap with a determination that scared the elder. He kissed him again, even when his tongue was bitten to stop him and then groped at the buttons on his shirt, long legs cramped in the small space of the driver's seat. Taeyong pushed him off, determined to be led away from what they both knew was useless to argue about but when he pushed him enough to see his face, he realized Sicheng was crying. Despite the anger, he couldn't stop the protectiveness shoot up his head like second nature and he bit his lip before he managed to push him off that he could transfer to the passenger's seat. Sicheng held his breath when Taeyong put his hands on his waist to guide him back on his lap and let the seat recline so Sicheng hovered over him.

There's no words left for them to say at this point. Taeyong admired the way the younger's hair fell over his eyes and Sicheng's tears fall when he knew that this might as well be the last time he'll ever be with him.

Better make the most of it, was all they could think of before they let the familiarity of the position take over them. Taeyong doesn't bite on Sicheng's tongue when it comes into his mouth, letting it rub against his and his hands reach out to take off  the long coat that bunched on the floor before he managed to untuck Sicheng's shirt so he could unzip his pants. His hands meet warm flesh, moaning into Sicheng's mouth when the younger managed to find his nipples through his shirt to pinch them and he stroked the younger's cock that he parted with a gasp, grinding down onto his hand and his head resting on Taeyong's shoulder.

"N-Not that..." he groaned when Taeyong swiped his thumb over the head, hot breath on Taeyong's skin like smoldering coal pressed too close for comfort and he pushed his pants down enough that he could do what Sicheng had meant.

He doesn't know how long it lasted from his fingers slicked in Sicheng's spit because there's no lube around and the stretching that made him whine so much like the kid he was, finally pulling his pants down so his cock can be free from the confines of his pants. Sicheng spits into his palm and normally, he'd be disturbed with how unhygienic it is but his cock is being pumped in a slow caress so as to help perhaps that he forgoes the thought.

When he finally entered him, Sicheng muffled his pained grunt onto Taeyong's cheek and he rocked down despite how his eyebrows furrowed at the lack of slide he was usually accustomed. Taeyong held his waist to let him grind down on his cock, spreading his legs as much as he could despite the small space so he could thrust up into the younger. There's fog on the windows, something that Taeyong thought he'd never see and he makes shallow thrusts as Sicheng adjusted to him with every roll of his hips. The younger hiccupped when he thrust down the same time Taeyong moved, hips stuttering as his hands find purchase on the other's shoulders. He rolled his hips down and did the same sound, high-pitched before Taeyong started thrusting faster at that spot, nails digging harder into the fabric of his shirt that there might as well be crescent-shaped indentions left on his skin. He pressed open-mouthed kisses on Sicheng's chest, close to his heart where he can almost feel on his lips how fast the younger's heartbeat went with every thrust and there's a wetness against his hairline where Sicheng has his face buried.

Taeyong looked up, the sobs he barely noticed through the boy's moans clear now and then he pressed one kiss right on top of the spot where he thought Sicheng's heart rested. Sicheng's rhythm faltered, turning sloppy before he made a soft noise at the back of his throat and Taeyong stroked him to completion, finishing when he felt Sicheng tighten around him. He jostled him on his lap with the climax, the boy's head hitting the roof by mistake that he ducked down right between the juncture of Taeyong's neck.

Both of them didn't speak, breathing heavily as they came down from the high. Sicheng gulped, Adam's apple bobbing at the movement that Taeyong spied from the corner of his eye before the boy leaned over to cup his jaw and placing a lingering kiss that was what Taeyong needed before he let his tears fall once more.

They clean up and head back in silence, clothes wrinkled and eyes red from how much they  rubbed on them with every tear that fell down. It didn't matter where they started, two boys who wanted to be together despite it all because at the end of this, Sicheng and Taeyong are just fools who thought nothing would change when it came to this messy art of falling in love with your best friend.

Taeyong doesn't bother to wait for Sicheng to get out because he's throwing the keys to the other's lap before he opened the driver's door to leave. He doesn't look back even when he can feel the heavy weight of Sicheng's gaze on him. Taeyong doesn't stop walking even when he arrived to his apartment, not bothering to lock the door and collapsing on the couch that held so many memories.

He slept away the heartbreak because everything is never going to be the same.

 ----

Taeyong didn't let it affect him much.

He went to university, partied with his friends until dawn with his head pounding like there's a jackhammer inside his brain and letting his schedule pile up enough that he wouldn't have time to rest. He didn't stop to eat anymore, his apartment too empty for him to consider home while the sheets still have a certain scent that lingered even when he had washed them so much his hands had turned numb.

He hardly spoke, circles under his eyes turning darker as he couldn't sleep without dreaming about laughter and innocent eyes. Yuta had made him drink some tea to help him sleep during their classes together but it didn't help him at all that he vomited it out when he had the chance. The Japanese boy glared at him whenever he could visit and even hauled him into his bathroom so he could take a bath without sitting on the tiled floor with the shower raining down on him. Yuta didn't know what happened but he knew that it's about Sicheng, something along the lines of what he feared about them from the start.

("Yong, stop moping. Just let him go."

"I have." The voice is scratchy, hollow as he felt but he forced a smile that Yuta hit his head out of annoyance.

"If you lied better than that, I would believe you but you're here wasting your life and seriously? It's pathetic.")

Perhaps it could be because he listens to the voice mails that Sicheng left him, soft voice whispered at the dead of the night begging for forgiveness and the way he would always tell him about what happened with his day. How he couldn't sleep a wink because he missed him, asking him to come and take him back because he's realized how much he needed him and Taeyong is wide awake with the eerie sound of Sicheng calling for help he took for granted.

Taeyong didn't let it affect him but he won't tell anyone it's haunting him instead and he's subjected to misplaced guilt because he still loves Sicheng despite everything.

 ----

The headline on the papers said "Shooting in Chinese-owned Company, One dead and Fifteen Injured" when Taeyong picked it up from the newspaper stand, eyebrows furrowed as he unfolded it.

Strange, he thought. It's been relatively quiet these days and the sudden shooting at what seemed to be a place that's close to his apartment made him a little worried. He hasn't been up with the news and so he straightened it, skimming over at the details of the crime but his breath got stuck on his throat when he saw a photo from the party that changed everything plastered under it with the tiny text declaring that Dong Sicheng of the Dong family has been shot through the chest.

He lets go of the paper and crouched onto the sidewalk because he couldn't breath.

"Are you okay?" a classmate of his asked, worried as he took heavy breaths through his mouth because everything is suddenly too much and too little that he stumbled to the ground. There's a weird heaviness in his chest and he can almost tell it's the guilt before he lost consciousness.

 ---

"What are you doing?"

There were things he should have thought about more, things he should be mulling over for a few months and that he should be considering the consequences of but the cold surface of the gun is comforting in his hand as he aimed it right at the head. His knees are shaking yet there is no fear telling him to run, no second thoughts that came when he rested a finger on the trigger while the girl stared at him in horror.

It's just like how his father taught him.

"I'm calling the police!"

Ready, steady. aim and-

A resounding bang that is accompanied with the smell of blood and the sound of a body slumping on the floor as she screamed at the pain. But he shot her right at the middle of her forehead, right to her brain and she twitched before her eyes rolled up and she stopped moving. Taeyong put down the gun, staring down at the body that's pooling blood on the concrete where she was sprawled and he walked over at the car that he recalled was the same one that Sicheng and him parted away from. She had a lot of nerve then to bring that car after all the taunts she told him over the phone when he asked her to come.

Taeyong knew she was the one who orchestrated the shooting. She had been greedier than expected that she thought killing her fiancee's family would give her more shares if she played the victim. She thought she was clever but really, when you were raised in a crime family, there were things that they taught you to survive in a world where everything was either die or kill. Taeyong left that when he met Sicheng, scared of what  it might bring but now that he realized it, perhaps it was better this way.

Sicheng should be under his wing and no one would need to die. Taeyong might be upset that Sicheng didn't seem to be strong enough to break away from his family but then again, perhaps he was too lenient with him.

It's an eye-opener, murder that is. The police will ask questions, the funeral will be arranged. There would be an investigation and it might just as well lead to Sicheng at this rate that they'll dig up Taeyong so he should make his choice already. It could be easier, however, if there was a witness and not a suspect because the girl was so careless with her pride to meet Taeyong without anyone knowing. Just a little smoke and mirrors and he can already tell he'll be able to pull Sicheng away from his last remaining family. It'd be easy because Sicheng's father wouldn't hesitate to save his own hide. What would he be able to do when his only connection to the underground found out he injured his only son and heir?

Taeyong aimed the gun close to his skin, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

Perhaps he and Sicheng can make amends now.

No more pain and no more hindrances.


End file.
